Foxtail
by Truemmerphantom
Summary: Everyone knows the drill. Louise summons a Familiar from another world that is not Saito, snogs them, turns them into a pet/slave/indentured asset and said character proceeds to bend everything to their liking without, somehow, completely derailing the story in the process. Let's see what happens if you put a Self-Insert Kitsune into the mix that doesn't take... merde from anybody.
1. So it begins

Close to the New Year's eve, I decided to part with a drabble of mine.

**Only** Disclaimer: I ain't own anything I'll ever mention or reference in this story, with exception of the Self Insert. Yes, It's that kind of story, peeps.

* * *

\- Prologue -

MMO-RPGs. Love 'em, hate 'em, but some of them can be quite amusing. There are good ones, there are bad ones, but pretty much all of them do micro transactions to stay afloat… and the fair share of them also give characters just enough clothing to cover the bare minimum of their modesty because _of course_ there's no better way to lure players into your money making machine than the avatar of a curvy female or a ridiculously ripped male.

Meh.

In any case, that's where I am currently spending my time on: Character Creation. Some waste hours upon hours in it to create the most detailed characters ever (or make something utterly hideous), others despair at the options given to them, some just skip through it and others… yea, they just stare at curves all day.

You pick a race, go in-depth, pick a class, optionally a subclass or job class if the creators were too lazy to properly implement an event within the game itself and then go from there. The races usually have benefits and drawbacks attached to them, making ones incredibly good choices for casters or priests/healers while others seem to be destined to be the perfect brawlers or deadliest archers. There's a reason why Orcs are mostly associated with close combat classes like Fighters and Berserkers while Elves, any kind of them, are predominantly casters or archers. Then you have your oddballs like the alcohol throwing, fire breathing pandas, the thieving tieflings… or, every now and then, races with animal appendages. The most known stereotypes of _that_ spectrum are the wolf-people, catgirls, bunnygirls and the foxkin.

And yea, I'm currently doing just that: Creating a Kitsune Miko… shrine maiden… Okay, she's a druid. It's the closest thing available, alright? And yes, the fox demon had chosen a profession dedicated to warding off demons such as herself. Gotta love the irony, ya know?

Hmm, I still need to add the Scribe job class to make "paper-tags" and "sealing arrays", but otherwise I'm done. After all, when the game lets you inscribe one of the more powerful ice attacks commonly known as Fimbulvetr onto a single strip of paper with only the initial mana cost and the "durability" of your "scribing tools" as a cost, you bet people end up creating tons upon tons of scrolls of that… providing their magic attack stat, their "Intelligence", is that shitty. Then again, you can throw these things around like candy and don't have to account for something as stupid as cast time.

In any case, meet Yuki Kazuhira, the white haired (furred?) Foxkin Druid! And yep, I definitely stole that last name from Metal Gear and have no idea what it actually means.

Well then, without further ado, let's begin this adventure by pressing Enter-

_***BOOOM***_

* * *

Ooof…

When I was young, I had made the unfortunate happenstance of placing my hands on a still hot pan, brief as it may have been. Goodness gracious, it had hurt and putting my poor, hurt hand under a flowing stream of cold water didn't help for long to keep the hurt at bay. And being a child back then, it was quite expected that I teared up.

What I am feeling now… is quite similar, except… Well, for one I could feel the similar burning sensation all over my body, alas muscle cramps, stomach aches and the feeling of being briefly _constrained_ (somehow) were added to it… and goodness, I _need_ to visit the next bathroom. And why is everything so _friggin' hot anyways_?

… Also, why's my face planted into _dirt_? _**Dirt?**_ My room wasn't _that_ dusty last time I checked!

(Then again, that was a week ago…)

… Speaking of dusty, there's Dust around me everywhere and I'm inhaling it and it makes my throat hurt and nose twitch and- and-

_**AAACHOOO!**_

_*sniff*_

Ugh, Gods! What is this infernal smell? It reeks of something burnt and rotten, like someone had cocooned an egg in flesh and hair, left it to rot in a far corner of a room, found it a year later and then decided to cook the thing for shit and... giggles…

*_giggle_*

… Speaking of giggles, despite the supposed-to-be-deafening sound of the explosion I manage to hear giggles beyond the layer of smoke… or _am_ I actually deafened to a degree and there's actually laughter coming from beyond the dusty dust cloud of watering eyes?

… Probably just gawkers who want to see the result of a gas explosion or something. Stupid idiots probably record everything and point excitedly at the giant hole that is now my room… maybe. Possibly.

Then again, in that case I should be very dead. That and I don't hear the tell tale sound of a blazing and crackling inferno (also known as the fiery depths of hell) so something else must have happened…

*sigh*

Well then… let's inspect the damage I sustained and see if I can get uuye_ooww- owowowwow_! Leg hurts! Leg hurts pretty, pretty bad! Owowowow…

Calm down… please calm down, me, ignore the _mother-friggin_' pain erupting from your left leg-

**"Oww**…**"** Not working, not working!

Does the other leg at least… praise Murphy, it's alright!

Thus, with quite a bit of effort it appears, I roll over on my good leg and lay on my back instead of my stomach. I presume suffocating in mud or sand is an unpleasant way to go into the beyond.

Ugh… this better not be part of the MMO-RPG experience or I'll be very, very upset.

It is then that the dust cloud surrounding me was dispersed by a sudden gust of wind.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?"

… What?

Was that supposed to be an insult or something?

One quick glance around… and aaalright, it appears that either I was - somehow - launched to the outer reaches of france and had miraculously survived the impact (unlikely), I somehow switched from one plane of existence into another (highly unlikely) or… everyone who knows me decided to prank me by learning how to fluently talk in french, don a convincing set of cosplay clothes and dye their hair in ridiculous colors.

I would give the world switching option a second thought before ever considering the third option.

Well then… nevertheless, there's a group of teenage, snobby and bullying brats in cultist clothes fiddling with their sticks (the wooden, ridiculously decorated kind) as they laugh their asses off while a honest-to-pancakes pink haired midget is talking to what I presume to be the supervisor of this cosplay club or whatever.

Apart from the eyesore that are the wannabe cultists and the happenstances bringing me here, the day shapes up to be positively lovely already.

*sigh*

Well then, time to dial down the sarcasm.

I have no idea how I ended up in… a castle's courtyard, how in Helheim I got transported to France of all places and just how bad my broken or bruised leg is - "Owowowow", alright, it's definitely broken!

"Yikes!"

A random female seems to agree, according to the cry of second hand pain I heard from nearby… Must be from behind me since these bigots in front of me are too preoccupied with gloating at the pink haired midget for whatever reason. In any case, I have to see the damage and-

…

Well, whoever transported me here deemed it fitting to put me into a brown cloak of some sort. One that's itchy, too. They really wanted me to fit into this cosplay club, didn't they?

Well, that also explains why my head and ears feel so itchy, too… The hood is covering it and it is as irritating as hell, too. Well, that problem is easily resolved.

Lowering the hood also had the after effect of shutting all those snot nosed brats up. Somehow. They were all shouting "Quelle est cette choose?" or something equally retarded while pointing to something over my head. Did they never see a hood before? Are they cosplaying as some sort of moronic backwater tribes-people, too?

Meanwhile pinkie had her mouth momentarily open before she proclaimed something in joy and pointing at me victoriously.

I deadpanned back and then tried to get up into a sitting position, gritting my teeth and closing my eyes together as a literal lance of pain shoots through my definitely broken leg… anyway, opening one eye and wiping off the tears reveals...

… knees that are much more slender and less hairy-er than I remembered them. What?

Well… I can definitely see an ugly purple and red bruise right beneath the shin. Goodness gracious!

And now my butt feels like it's mangled, squished and pressed together by something pressing from above. subconsciously, I bring one hand to it and-

… tail.

Furry tail.

Soft. Furry. Tail!

And a second one right next to it!

…

The privates are missing, too.

…

I wish I had friends who could prank me instead.

*sigh*

Breathe in… and out...

Oh, hey, look, during the time it took for me to find out that I turned into a friggin' animal girl of unknown origins, unknown faction and even unknown ethnicity the pink haired, ultra smug, 'I-need-to-refuel-my-bottle-of-awfully-smelling-perfume' midget had closed the distance and I don't have a weapon close nearby- hellooo thick tree branch, forget that I had said anything you glorious, glorious skull smacker.

It was an ugly, gnarly thing, looking more like it was made of intertwining roots rather than branches and it became… well, not _quite_ exponentially thicker towards the "head", so to speak, but it did end in some curly, gnarled and root-y, blunt end. One way or another, it could definitely be used as a club in an emergency.

***Smack***

Which is exactly what I did when that pink haired midget had pointed her adorned stick at my forehead and was chanting unintelligible words in a far too loud and high pitched voice that *_grated_* on my new set of highly sensitive ears.

"Ouch! C'était pour quoi?!"

I have no idea what she's saying, but her absolutely furious and red face as well as the roaring laughter from the sidelines were translation enough. Thus, I deadpanned: "Shove your stick somewhere else, midget."

Cue confused blinking… right before the midget in question stomped angrily on the ground and shrieked in french again. If my guess is right, she's insulting me. An impression which is further reinforced when the midget points her finger just centimeters away from and at my face.

My deadpanned expression doesn't slip when I shove her not-so-gently to my right with my newly acquired, gnarly root-staff, an act which not only intensified the laughter of the mentally challenged, but also made the girly midget fall unceremoniously on her pampered butt. Be as it may, I then used the staff to right myself upwards, a monumental task of self imposed hurdles as my right leg practically _begged_ to be released from the arduous torture I put it through, no matter if I rest my weight on my newly acquired bludgeoning weapon or not.

And all things considered, my mental monologue was infinitely more considerate to common courtesy than the literal waterfall of curse words that was actually spat out of my orifice. And heck, just so every single doofus standing on the sidelines could actually comprehend what my spoken language was all about, I had thrown in the word "MERDE!" every now and then.

From the agape and disgusted looks the group seemed to give me now they seemed to get the gist, too.

Wonderful. I am in France and my knowledge of the local language is limited to one single curse word.

Unless Croissant counts.

And… huh, actually…

My gaze fixated on the supervisor of this… cosplay club, a middle aged (?), bald-headed man who had apparently been watching me for as long as this mayhem had been going on for… and my leg protested like no one would believe as I hobbled my way over to him.

Except… *_someone_* decided to grab onto my butt- err, tail… goodness, it feels weird to have more body parts!

It doesn't help that the midget is tugging harshly on them, either. And the less said about the otherworldly feeling I get from them, the better.

Keeping my weight off my left leg as best as I possibly could I turn around to send the under-aged, pampered girl a well deserved glare. However, seeing as the pink haired menace exploded in a tirade herself my attention is soon redirected again towards the only adult caught up in this caricature of a cosplay party. Stretching the hand out and doing the universal "Come here, darn it!"-gesture should do the trick in getting his attention, yes?

_Thankfully_ the bald man got the message and walked towards us, albeit warily. I can't really fault him for that I presume, seeing as the midget gets increasingly louder and louder. Fortunately for me, once she remembered that we weren't the only beings in the courtyard of the _friggin' medieval castle_ the brat composed herself and faced the bald man, too.

… Only to throw a tantrum on *_him_* for some inane reason or another.

Quite mature of her, isn't it?

*_sigh_* Well then, let's see if the guy in the robes knows enough of the world's language so I can communicate with someone.

_*Cough*_

The two (as well as the entire courtyard) paused and turned their heads to me. A good sign, I believe. No time like the present, aye?

"Excuse me?" I asked in my accented English that now sounds more akin to a prepubescent middle school girl on helium. Joy. Not. "Can you tell me where I am?"

The two of them, the pinkette and the Old man that is, blinked at me in confusion.

I sigh again. Figures I land somewhere where English isn't widely used to be… useful.

Still, it's too early to give up. "Can you speak English, please?"

Again, they blinked at me in confusion… or, in the case of the midget, openly sneered in apparent discontent. Never mind that she was **still** holding one of my… tails in a vice grip.

I won't have anything of that. "Parle!"

*_That_* the two understood, albeit going by the cringing of the midget I had spelled it wrong. Too bad, Captain Jack Sparrow could teach me only so much.

The Old Cosplay Club Captain, hereby referred to as TOC³, spoke in french.

Sighing once again as I balance most of my weight onto my… root staff, I point at my left leg and, with as deadpanned an expression as I could possibly manage to muster, I said: "Hurt."

More confused blinking.

I point at my leg again, this time more insistently. "Hurt!"

TOC³, again, said something in french, still confused..

"Sonofa-" By the Wild Hunt, I am agitated! Not good. Still, one more try… "MEDIC!"

_**That**_ they do seem to understand! Goodness gracious, to think that the lack of french lessons would come to bite me in the backsides…

TOC³ _finally_ looks at my leg and pales slightly. "Amenez-la à l'infirmerie!"

Thank. The. Gods!

* * *

\- The Summoner -

This wasn't fair.

This. Was. Not. Fair!

After what seems to be a lifetime of _being_ a disappointment, of constantly enduring the ridicule of her peers, day after day after day _after day __**after day**_ of constant studying, going through the motions, preparing for every eventuality, after pouring _every single ounce of willpower_ into this one spell to ensure _it would not fail_ and exerting herself just shy of the brink of unconsciousness…

She had done it! She had really done it! She had wished for a beautiful, powerful and wise familiar and even though the inevitable explosion had been… massive, Louise certainly summoned something that fit _at least one_ of her criteria, that she had to begrudgingly admit. The... foxgirl she summoned definitely had a certain… exotic allure to her, no matter if she was clad in a third rate robe or not.

It made Louise quite sick that she consciously admitted this.

Nevertheless, after enduring all these hardships, backslashes and the constant ridicule, she was overjoyed, no, ecstatic even in the wake of her first real success at performing Magic, to have summoned something that puts the germanian cow's own accomplishment into the shadow… this moment couldn't have possibly turned for the worse, could it?

Except it had.

The creature she put all her effort of summoning into… rejected her. Without batting an eye no less!

Understandably, Louise had been shell-shocked. Shell-shocked… and then she had exploded on the animal girl, verbally chewed her out, told her what an _*honor*_ it was to be selected to be the familiar of a progressing mage such as herself-

… Only to shortly find out that _that beast_ wasn't cultured enough to speak tristanian. Or… she had thought she was uncultured, seeing as the being spat out an unrecognizable mess of muttered words into the open when she clumsily stood up - a literal assortment of curse words, if her suspicion profed to be correct and the vulgar fox hadn't called out "shit" for the hell of it.

Then… the fox girl singled out professor Colbert and attempted to communicate with him, proving that she knew _some_ tristanian words and its meanings… and that she was injured, more than likely caused by the explosive manner she was summoned.

Thus, in retrospect, a small part of Louise could comprehend why the fox wasn't particularly in the mood to finish the ritual right now. The majority of her however wanted to point her wand at the infirmary's door, let loose a "fireball" and get the binding ceremony done and over with. Alas, this was not the proper way a noble should conduct themselves with, meaning that Louise would wait… and make her discontent noticeable in other ways.

It was more than grating enough that her fellow year-mates ridiculed her achievement…

A shiver ran down her spine. Was it just her or had it become quite cold here lately?

Louise shook her head. It was probably just her imagination running wild.

Maybe she should go to her room-

***Clatter***

The pinkette recoiled. She just hit her feet against-

What… What were these things?

There was a gray and black… _something_ at her feet, with a small rectangle of glass fused to it, enveloped in some form of leather, opened up when it hit her feet. There was a glowing picture of a Lake surrounded by a forest and a mountain on it, reflecting said landmarks on the water's surface… the painting's quality was beyond anything any painter, Tristanian or otherwise, could even _dream_ of accomplishing and-

-and the picture just became dark, without any input of herself.

Did- did she break it?

No. No, the weird casing and the glass were still whole, but… Louise grabbed onto the presumably magical picture casing and it lit up again, displaying the same painting, as well as very… featureless, halkeginian writing and numbers.

"A… shoe? Why is there a four thousand and thirty three- thirty four? It just increased!"

Indeed, as Louise walked to the nearest wall the number next to the shoe symbol increased and only stopped once she halted. Did that mean that this painting was enchanted to count the amount of steps one had taken? Why would anyone do that? What is the point behind that?

Furthermore, there was a far larger number over it, displaying the numbers eleven forty five… which soon changed to eleven forty six just as she blinked. And then there were many, many more smaller symbols (runes?) at the top of the glass pane.

Also, whenever Louise didn't touch the picture, it would become dark. What was up with that?

Be as it may… the pink haired Student decided to keep this artifact for now. It… may be of importance, after all.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

* * *

Ah, Zero no Tsuikama, a series I only know because I read a lot of fanfics about it. Whenever I was fighting my writer's block, I tried to break it by giving my other ideas a bit of leeway, hoping to break the curse.

Alas, what was once a drabble quickly mutated into this monstrosity.

The people I interact with on Discord say this has a lot of potential, so I'll give it a go. And seeing as the next chapter is already in the works, who knows?

In any case, I hope you like this little piece of insanity. Have a happy new year. :)


	2. Magic, Chess and Old Osmund

\- Foxtail -

* * *

Magic.

Of course wherever I got dumped onto had gods forsaken, mind boggling magic. I'm thankful that it didn't seem to be Magick from the Cthulhu Mythos, but still, magic!

And apparently, like Katara in Avatar, you can use water to accelerate the healing of wounds, though it seems that a broken bone is still a serious matter, seeing as I got a… crystalized mud cast around my leg now… well, it had been mud before, but now it feels more like stone. The other mage _had_ come around and made my bones within my broken leg hurt immensely for a second or two as they set themselves and grew together (at least that is what I _think_ what had happened), but it appears that no one wanted to take an unnecessary risk.

It was fascinating to watch, but frightening to experience. Nevertheless, I did my best to bow my head in thanks, something which at least the older healer, the water mage (?), seemed to register and answer with a small smile.

The… ahem, 'pudgy' female earth mage (?) who had set my bones seemed to be a little bit more smug about it, but she still patted my head (and ears… ugh, why does it feel pleasant?!) before she said something to her senior and left.

Well then… Now I am stuck in a hard bed in the infirmary, with only an older lady as company who was currently doing some potioncraft (or whatever) a little ways away in a separate room. I could only really guess at it, because my current vantage point let me see a mirror in said room which is reflecting what she is doing. In any case, I have no idea how to fight the eternal enemy that is Boredom in the future… and, I guess, I should see how to reverse whatever happened to me, in addition to find a way back.

I still haven't finished every path in Three Houses and I really want to be there when Stellaris' Federations DLC comes out. Valcyria Chronicles is also halted on chapter six, Darksiders one and two are dusting over in my steam library, I'm kind of tempted to replay Breath of the Wild, Starcraft has a new Commander waiting to be leveled, the entirety of The Banner Saga needs to be downloaded, the Terraria Waterworld challenge needs to be continued because those idiots will all die without me, I want to do a few more single type playthroughs of Shield (despite the mediocre story)...

*sigh*

Let's move on.

I had a look at a mirror earlier. It appears that my current body looks very much like the Avatar of the Online RPG game I had created earlier, including the bust size. Now I know that males are usually attracted to big busts, but at the current moment I really, really hate my hour-old past self for moving the slider up ever so slightly. In MMOs where you can have avatars with pumpkins for racks, that means the increase of a bust size. So… I guess these are Ds?

… In retrospect, I don't really want to know.

My vision shifts to the side of the infirmary's bed, onto the root staff. I'm… actually kind of relieved they left it in my possession now. If my body is now that of the character I created earlier that day, maybe…

…

I'm a trice-darned Kitsune, of course I can do magic!

Let's see… how did they do it in the Elemental Nations, both in Naruto and Avatar? Feel for your Chi or Chakra within you? Meditate? Get some giant moles to teach you how to dig tunnels? Have a giant, snarky, sarcastic and asshole-ish nine tailed fox in your gut?

Well… let's just start with meditation. Close my eyes, feel the stale air around me, smell the scent of whatever the hell the healer is brewing over there (is that the scent of alcohol? It definitely burns the nose like it), hear the pitter-patter of moving about and the french chatter as the cultist's children are doing whatever it is they do when they get their butts pampered…

… breathe in… and out…

"Sacrebleu! Arretez! Arretez!"

"Huh?"

I opened my eyes again… and blink.

It seems like that magic _is_ as easy as breathing.

My bedsheets are now coated in frost, glittering in the torchlight. Not only that, but part of the room itself has frosted over in places, with patches growing on the walls, the ceiling, on the ground, over books… and, apparently, the temperature of the room had also begun to drop towards zero, if the very visible breath of the very confused (and somewhat agitated) healer is anything to go by.

Her eyes met mine and mine met hers.

"Oops?"

Seriously, what else can I say?

The aged lady stared at me for a bit… and then shook her head, walked out of the door and seemed to talk with the local personnel for a bit. Eventually though, she walked back in and entered her workroom. She didn't remain in that room for long though, as she came back to me with both a blanket and a box that had a checkerboard pattern on it.

Does that mean…

The box was soon opened, its contents placed on the bedside table… and then the healer brought her wand out, chanted, pointed at the various outcrops of frost, melted most of the ice close to our position, eventually refreezing the newly formed puddle of water into a quite pleasingly looking table, easily reachable with my right hand.

Well, if I sat up, anyways.

When the healer sets up the white chess pieces whose form and function I could recognize (though I did notice that the knight's horse figure was more in the style of a griffon for some reason) were set up, I tried to sit up on the bed, being careful not to overburden my left leg in the process. The movement did make me wince - making the healer stare at me like a hawk - but I managed to sit up, though I wouldn't dare to take steps for now.

Then I took a look at the remaining, black pieces… and started to set those up, something which apparently comes as a surprise, according to the slight widening of the woman's eyes. It didn't last long however, as her lips started to sprout the smallest of smiles.

Playing Chess is much more bearable than laying in bed all day.

Now let's see how utterly I'll be destroyed by her.

* * *

"Échec et mat.~"

I bow my head, accepting my defeat. Haley the healer (or whatever her name actually is) is very, very good at chess. I don't feel too bad about losing, but I am proud of the fact that I was apparently good enough that she had to take me _*somewhat*_ seriously. While I have trouble looking three steps ahead, I do try to cover all my units.

Thus it takes a while until the elder can find a weak point she can leverage. Nevertheless, the moment weakness was found, she had then exploited it like no tomorrow. It had taken the sacrifice of more than half her pieces for her to win the latest game though. And if I'm reading her facial structures correctly, she seems to have fun, too… despite the apparently rather chilling temperature in the infirmary.

For me it feels nice and cozy though. Huh.

****Clack-Click****

The opening of the door reroutes my attention towards the entrance to the infirmary. An unfortunately familiar looking, pink haired midget follows behind a… very, very old, white haired and bearded wizard, as well as TOC³. Taking a look at the bearded man I come to the conclusion that he should definitely not be working anymore

The old lady gives the bearded man one hell of a stink eye though for some reason, so *_maybe_* I should be more cautious than I am currently.

The bearded man is apparently quite jovial, making jokes apparently only he himself understands and his companions most likely do not appreciate, if their… unappreciative and long-suffering gazes are anything to go by.

That the infirmary is somewhat... chilly… caught them off guard a bit it seems.

Eventually though they make their way over to my current resting place and start to talk with the healer in charge, presumably about the rather unexpected change in temperature… or, now that I think about it, either me or upcoming cuts in the funds.

Pinky stares at me with an unreadable expression, but I am fairly sure she had noticed the chessboard, too. I in the meantime raise my eyebrow at her as I reset the figures to their proper places, seeing as the adults are still in their French discussion.

"Que faites-vous?"

I raise an eyebrow at Pinkie… who, for her credit, didn't sound *_entirely*_ condescending. For that, I can humor her with an answer at the very least. "I still can't understand you, pinky." I pause, making it obvious that I had finished my sentence, then started again. "Otherwise" another obvious pause, then I gesture to the chess set "I am setting the pieces."

Obviously pinky didn't understand me fully, but after I continued with setting the figures she seemed to have an internal "Ah-hah!" moment… or she has just sneered because she can't be bothered to make sense out of the globally most commonly used language back where I come from.

That being said...

"Excusez moi s'il vous plait."

What? "Huh?"

I focus my sight on the bearded grandpa-like man who smiled kindly at me… and is holding his staff up in as non-threatening a manner as possible… As non-threatening as it can be while pointing at me.

"Puis-je?"

I must have tilted my head in confusion for the old man's face fell a bit. Instead of focusing on him though, I turn towards the only person in the room who had spent any reasonable amount of time with me thus far.

The old woman returns my gaze and raised a single eyebrow. "Hmm?"

I compose myself, then pointed at the man. "Safe? S… sûre?"

Yes, I added one more word to my collection of french words… and if the small chuckles that rumbled through the older men is anything to go by (as well as the pinkette's scoff) I butchered and skinned it perfectly. Joy.

The older woman just smiled (slightly) though and nodded, answering my question. And with that out of the way, I turn my head back to the old man and nod.

Apparently understanding what just played before him he let out a small chuckle. "Prudente, n'est-ce pas?" I have no idea what exactly he said, but seeing as the word 'prudente' means to be cautious, careful or, well, to be *_prudent*_, I can get the gist.

I tell as much. "Prudente. Cautious, careful, prudent."

A minor awkward pause later the old men seem to have grasped what I had just done and smile affectionately (or patronisingly) at me. And with the ice broken (and apparent permission given) the old, white bearded man began to chant something, making the tip of his staff glow in a deep green that *_somehow_* had a somewhat dark-ish core to it…

Then the orb of magical power loosened itself from the staff, flew directly into my stomach and knocked, literally, the wind out of me. "Oof!"

It didn't stop there though.

Whatever wind magic there was soon dissipated around me, knocking a few chess pieces off the chess table. However, the core of it *_did not_* dissipate, instead merging into me, spreading out, making me feel *_absolutely miserable_* as a feeling of both warmth, cold and *_sludge_* traveled through my blood, sweeping through my torso, my arms and legs, my *_**head**_*-

…

* * *

...

"... told me it…"

"No one… this reaction…"

"You assured me…!"

"But how…"

"...Ice mage?"

"Ooof…"

My head feels like it's bursting from the inside… Did someone see the number of the truck that run me over?

I… must have passed out for quite some time since, apparently, the nuclear winter happened and everything is crusted over with ice… or something… I can't quite make out what's going on, but there seem to be people on the other side of an ice wall and… ugh.

Thinking be too hard. Thinking makes head hurt.

I shake my head - a bad action, by the way - and try to grab onto my forehead to fight the headache down, instead colliding with more ice… did I get buried under an avalanche or something? In any case… need to get out…

The blurry shapes on the other side of the glass… ice… whatever it is seem to notice me moving for they are apparently bringing out some Bunsen burners (for some reason) and try to melt through the ice… and, well, I think they are succeeding, seeing as the ice all melts at once-

***Splash***

"..."

"Professor Colbert!"

"My apologies, madame von Bergliez."

Well… they definitely managed to wake me up and… huh?

Alright… brain's booted back up, water's swept off my eyes and the sight I'm rewarded with is the same from my fever dream, just… however much time after being dropped here later. Even the pink midget's still there, looking absolutely lost, frightened and… bratty as always, though she seems to try her best not to shiver for some reason.

She also looks… very heatedly at a specific part of my body and after I retrace her sight- oh.

Blushing in indignance, I put the - frozen - pillow in front of my body so no one can look at my… frozen over bandages again.

Fan-friggin'-tastic.

Two long tubes of fabric - my tails my aching mind tells me - move around my body and hug me close with their soggy sogginess, flash-freeze and suddenly became very, very fluffy and comfy and goodness I want to hug the crap out of them- aaand then I remember that hugging something that wasn't a part of yourself mere hours ago feels kinda weird and that I have people staring at me.

Blinking, I let out a *_Cough_*. "No one saw that." Seriously, I don't need even more mortification than this-

"Hey, I understood that!" the pinkette suddenly exclaims, pointing her finger directly at me.

I blink back at her… and then the happenstance with the spell casting came back to the forefront of my mind. Thus… I locate the bearded man again and focus my attention on him. He, for his part, returns the look, appearing to be quite curious for one reason or another.

Shaking my head (and wincing slightly once more), I try to make my voice as deadpan as possible. "That has to be the most volatile translation spell I have ever had the displeasure of being targeted by."

Goodness gracious, I have to get used to my voice all over again… I sound more like a petulant child than anything.

It did get a chuckle out of him though. "It is indeed, young lady. Sadly, the Founder's spell is the only one at our disposal." Upon saying that, the other three looked at the bearded man in awe/wonder/suspicion, but didn't say anything more. He smiled… probably. The beard hid his mouth. "In any case, how are you faring? I do see that Madame von Bergliez and Lady von Chevreuse already tended to your injuries, but it is always better to ask the source." He winked at that for one reason or another.

Well, at least he asked… nicely, I suppose. "Well… all things considered, the day could have started much worse, though being ripped from your home, parents, Grandparents, brother and extended family by an explosion of all things isn't that far off." My tone was mostly deadpan, but I couldn't help but put a bit of anger into my last words. Goodness, my family! Please, Grandma, don't have a heart attack-

Focus.

Alright, the adults grimaced and the pinkette had visibly flinched and… yep, she had paled at some point, too. Well then, let's continue. "Apart from that, I think I'm going through a few stages of culture shock. It appears that, wherever I am, the witch hunts haven't happened yet for everyone and their grandmother seems to be able to manipulate existence in some way, shape or form. That and your tech seems to be… quite a few years behind."

This sentence earned me weird looks. Figured. Well then, let's conclude this. "Apart from all that, I am quite thankful that you tended to my injuries this fast and… Miss Bergliez is quite pleasant company."

The healer nodded, apparently pleased enough to hear it.

"Now... " I begin again, keeping my voice level, "that leaves the question why I am here in the first place." Because if I was just summoned to this… realm (while changed into my RPG-Avatar in the process) just because some snot nosed brat didn't keep up with their studies and decided to just yolo it I may or may not be royally pissed about it.

The Gandalf-wannabe merely smiled. "That particular conundrum can be easily explained, miss…"

Yeah, maybe we should introduce ourselves to one another. Properly, that is. And… yeah, I can't use my birth name here. It would be pretty weird to carry a male name as a… ugh, girl. Though… I can't really use my real name here, can I? It would certainly raise a few eyebrows if I introduce myself with a masculine sounding name, so… character name it is. "Yuki. Yuki Kazuhira."

Probably botched the pronunciation, but it is what it is.

Not that anyone will notice, anyways.

"That is a very unique name, miss Kazuira."

… Did the bearded man even try though?

"Just Yuki is fine. Goodness knows my last name is a mouthful."

That made both men chuckle for some reason. Puzzled, I looked at the half-forgotten girl in guidance. She, for her part, just stared back at me impassively. Great, no help there.

The bearded man smiles… I think. "Miss Yuki, believe me when I say that you do not have a monopoly on overly complex names. Why, back in my own days there-*

The bald man coughed, bringing his companion out of a budding monologue. "Forgive me for interrupting, Osmund, but we should stay on topic." He adjusted his own glasses a bit before he answers in the old, awkwardly chuckling man's steed. "Today our second year students were supposed to summon their familiars."

I wait a few seconds for him to elaborate, only to wait in futility "... can you please elaborate? All this tells me that…" here I point at the midget, making her blink slightly, "the loud girl here summoned me instead of an eldritch abomination… or a cat."

The bearded man chuckled. "Well, and t'was exactly what happened. Hoho!~"

I stared at the old man - Osmund, gotta remind that - for several long seconds, then gave up and looked at the bald guy for help… or an instruction manual for the old man.

Baldie lets out a long suffering sigh. "Indeed, normally our students at the Tristanian Academy of Magic," well, that's certainly a name to note down, "summon animals as their companions, such as cats, dogs, moles, frogs and the occasional bugbear." Bugbear? What the heck is that? "Sometimes though we have students who successfully summon and bind a rare salamander, an enigmatic manticore or a swift wind dragon!"

He became more and more excited as he said it, but composed himself at last. I also noticed the girl wincing slightly when the three… more excotic beasts were mentioned. Also… "So… I take it then what a student gets is entirely up to chance? That doesn't sound particularly save."

Baldie nodded. "That is what the binding ritual is for."

… What.

… Alright, I'm apparently in some kind of Nobleman's (and Noblewoman's) school for the magically adept. That is alright and well, I can adapt to that and, mayhaps, seek work at their library to both learn how to write french (if the translation spell *_did not_* cover that, too), get some background knowledge of this backwater society, maybe get some theory work done about border manipulation or whatever and find a way home that way… or ask someone to reverse the summoning spell, if we want to do it the easy way.

However… they want something from me. The two men paying me a visit, well, that can be explained with making sure I'm not about to put them on trial- no, they wouldn't bother with that. If they want to make sure I am well and all… that would have been a possibility, but the midget - my apparent summoner - doesn't look very keen on apologizing and the bald man looked more curious than anything… and is that a mouse on the bearded man's shoulder?

Back on topic.

If I hazard a guess… sigh. "... you are here to finish the contract."

If the men noticed my resignation towards this topic, they didn't show it, but the midget gave her affirmation with a not-quite patient nod. Figures.

alright, don't get angry just yet… Breathe in… and out…

The lady medic had long since gone back to her study so she was spared from whatever I had conjured just now. That being said, the two men had adjusted their position ever so slightly and the girl's eyes also furrowed-oh.

Somewhere during the conversation I had dug my hands into my pillow and now it's filled with spikes upon spikes of ice, all jutting out of it.

I sigh. Again. "Forgive me, it appears that I don't quite have my temper in check. However, the thought of being turned into someone's property doesn't quite appeal to me, if you understand what I am implying."

It took a second or two, but the bearded- Osmund came to the conclusion first. "Ah. Yes, it wouldn't be… wise to bind somet-one their consent, of course."

… Is he for real?

Before I could open my mouth though, he continued. "I am aware that you are far away from home, miss Yuki," huh, he didn't botch that name as badly… I think, "but we are quite in a predicament. You see, the Church is very adamant about mages who summon a being during the aptly named, yearly Familiar Summoning Ceremony to bind said summoned creature as their familiar…" I stiffened at that and was about to object- "... or, if they fail at containing it, ensure the summoned creature is immediately… excommunicated."

I close my mouth. I open it. I close it.

"**What?"**

… I definitely need a new pillow now.

The bald man also looked aghast, less about my outburst and more about the… Osmund's statement. "Sir Osmund, are you sure about-"

Even the pink haired girl seemed to be disturbed by these news, but refrained from commenting, instead steeling herself once more.

"I repeat, the Church is very adamant about this subject." Then he chuckled. "However, as with all rules and regulations, they come with exceptions and loopholes."

… What.

"What." Huh. that was the midget.

Osmund chuckled. "The church doesn't talk about it, but about seven hundred years ago a princess of Gallia had been summoned into the backyard of the Germanian academy. Consequently, tensions became quite high between both kingdoms - and in extension with romalia - when the question of binding Royalty to a boy of far lesser status was brought up. The princess in particular had been quite vocal in her aversion, or so I had been told by a reliable source."

… Do mages live longer here or something? Or did the princess in question have a diary?

… The diary option might actually be plausible.

The pinkette looked confused, as did the bald man. Can't blame them, really, I am out of my depth, too.

Osmund continued. "Halkeginia had just barely recovered from their last war and certain factions were just waiting for another opportunity to start it all anew. The princess, obviously, refused to be bound and the boy, too, refused to bind a fellow mage to themselves, for that couldn't possibly be in brimir's interest, could it?"

… I have no idea what he's talking about. I told him so.

He shook his head. "It took months. The warring factions within Germania either asked for the head of the princess or for her to be bound to an easily manipulative asset and the Royal family of Gallia was furious, both at the Germanians in general and with the Church, for not accounting for such an obvious flaw in their demands."

… So Germany, my homeland, exists?

"In the end, Pope Augustus the twenty-ninth saw it worthwhile to adjust the rather radical wording of the paragraph in question. Roughly Translated into Tristani, 'should the summoned being proof to be in the possession of the founder's gift upon humanity and proof to be of sound mind and not corrupted by the false prayers of the Elven Menace," … what? " as well as'..." Osmund took a breath and smiled kindly. "let us skip the details, they are not of importance to us. It basically allows us to postpone the actual binding until a delegate of the church made their assessment of the situation."

That… is good?

I share a glance with the pinkette, who seemed to be as lost as I am.

Osmund sighs. "We _are_, however, under the obligation that the summoned, sentient being with the founder's gift - you, miss Yuki, in this case - does not cause any serious harm to the faithful people."

I raise an eyebrow. "So… house arrest?"

He nodded, chuckling. "House arrest, hoh? Now that is a fitting descriptor if I ever hear any." he shook his head. "I am obliged to keep you supervised by a trustful "servant of the faith" at all times - besides bedtimes, of course. I have to ensure you don't leave the grounds without consent and, as my obligation as the Headmaster of this Academy," Huh? "I have to ensure the students under my charge are shielded from the dangers that lurk outside and within."

Uhhh…

"Headmaster… could you please elaborate on that?" Thanks, pinky, I just wanted to ask myself. And… apparently the bald guy had a suspicion where this was going.

Headmaster Dumbledore the second continued. "In short, Miss Yuki _will_ stay here at the academy, under the watchful eye of the staff and at least one maid." What. "Since she obviously carries the Founder's Gift," of which I have no idea what that is, "also known as magical aptitude," oh, "she'll be judged by a respected member of the Brimiric Faith if she's a danger to the Devoted or if the Binding Ritual becomes mandatory." Yay… people, see me cheering without any inflection of sarcasm. At all.

"Furthermore," geez, there's more? "as the headmaster of this academy, it is my obligation those with an aptitude for magic know how to utilize it _without_ endangering their peers in the process." The pinkette winced at this noticeably, but the man continued. "For Example, Miss Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliére over here," geez, and I thought my new name was a mouthful, "had proven herself worthy when she had successfully executed her summoning spell, even if it brought with it these following events."

Was it just me or was this Louise girl actually shell-shocked?

"And thus it is my obligation to ensure you gain proper control over your magical aptitude and learn how to utilize it, for failing to do so would certainly endanger the attending Students - as well as our staff and the academy itself." He chuckles. "Snow in summer is one thing, but frostbite is another."

Well, I can't fault him for that I guess- wait. "So… until I either decide to… be bound or be judged by… the faith… I'll be regarded as a Student?"

_That_ seemed to snap the pinkette out of whatever trance she had been in, looking between me and the headmaster in rapid succession. "B-b- Headmaster Osmund, you couldn't possibly be saying-"

"- that we'll have a late entry into our respected establishment? Why, yes, Miss Valliére, you are certainly right." I could swear the old man was smirking under his beard. "And a responsible and prodigious student such as yourself certainly would assist the most recent applicant to the prestigious Tristain Academy of Magic in orienting herself, wouldn't you agree?"

… Oh that _sonofa_-

I turned to the _openly gaping_ noblewoman's daughter who could, apparently, make a perfect impression of an asphyxiating fish.

Even the bald man didn't seem to quite be able to believe what he had just heard. "But Professor Osmund, is this really-"

"- the time to bother a poor, injured girl in the Infirmary? Certainly not, Jean Colbert, I absolutely agree."

And with that the… Headmaster excused himself and left the infirmary with the bald- Mr. Colbert in tow…

Leaving me alone with a flabbergasted student. In the infirmary.

I blink… and blink again.

"What just happened?"  
"What just happened?"

…

Good to know the two of us are equally stumped when it comes to the insanity that has just transpired.

* * *

**Translation**. A spell powered by the enigmatic Void, taking the user's knowledge of the known tongues and adding it to the passive knowledge of the receiver. A wonderful spell that would allow diplomats from all over Halkeginia to understand one another and spread The Faith to all the people of the land, be they commoner or Noble. And with it's rather low requirement on a Mage's Willpower, certainly every noble who put enough effort into learning it would be able to cast it, right?

Alas, that is but a mere dream.

Void Mages were rare. So rare in fact, the only real, documented Void Mage to have lived was the founder Brimir himself.

Nowadays you could count the amount of people able to cast even the most trivial of the last documented spells of the void on your own fingers, and Old osmund, Headmaster of the Tristanian Academy of Magic is one of the lucky few.

Lucky. 'Tis not something he would have considered himself to be when he had to invest over twenty years to get this "basic" spell to work. A spell which rarely saw a need in the last centuries, doomed to be forgotten like the other "basic" void spells.

And seeing firsthand how **Translation** affected the receiver… The headmaster knew his version of the spell _needs_ more refinement.

Speaking of spellwork…

The would-be familiar of one Louise Francoise le Blanc De la Valliére, one "Yuki Kazuhira"... Old Osmund sincerely doubted that this is - or _was_ \- the animal eared girl's actual name, but he had decided to not dig further into it lest he may unnecessarily agitate her further… and seeing as her control over her own magical aptitude was… lacking…

Trust the youngest daughter of the Valliére family to summon something - some_one_ who shares the exact same problem as she herself.

In a sense.

The church was - and is - adamant about mages binding their familiars to themselves, both for their personal protection and of those around them. It required nothing more than a peck on the cheek, too, so why _would_ one refuse to do just that?

Yet at the same time, it is strictly forbidden to poison the fellow Nobility by mind altering spells and concoctions, a point firmly supported by both the church and the general nobility.

And according to law, everyone with Dot level magical aptitude and above is considered to be a member of the Nobility, be they disgraced or not.

And, of course, if the person with magical aptitude didn't happen to be an Elf.

Old Osmund never saw a being such as miss Kazuhira, but it was clear she doesn't have the same pointed ears as an Elf. She "_only_" seems to be a girl of the fairer gender who had lived a more secluded life, if the lack of obvious scars on her person or calluses on her hands is anything to go by. By all accounts, she appears to be a maiden ripped away from her home by the whims and the nature of the Summoning Ritual.

Given the fact that her ears and tails were _definitely not_ just very fancy accessories and, consequently, fully functional, she had either been experimented upon at a very young age… or, given her magic, she is a direct (or indirect) descendant of an elemental spirit, presumably from a cold elemental.

He was not sure which option was worse.

In any case, he would notify Cardinal Mazarin about the Fox Girl's existence… and hope he would decide over her fate directly than notify the Romalian Inquisition instead. But seeing as ruling over the Kingdom in the Queen's is a very trying and taxing task indeed… Headmaster Osmund would send the letter in a week's time.

For now though… Cuchu has very important information for him.

"_Squeak, squeak!_"

"Bound cloth you say? Hoh-hoh!~"

* * *

**Author's Notes**

* * *

Ah, good ol' exposition.

I am sorry to upset our first Guest Reviewer like this, but, unfortunately (or fortunately) our Kitsune is not a pragmatic, no-shits-given American.  
She is (or was, depending on the viewpoint) an easy to agitate, angry German.  
Louise will be _so_ out of her comfort zone when Yuki and Kirche ultimately speak to one another.

Your Review still made my day. Nine out of Ten.

Old Osmund is certainly out of Character here, but that will ultimately be the case when the author uses other fanfics as their basis for their fanfic and inserts just a tiny bit too much Dumbledore. I never watched Zero no Tsuikama, don't own any of the hard copies or light novels and I tend to come up with my own, faulty explanations for things, so tell me how much I am screwing up here. :)

And yes, if at all possible, our Kitsune will do her damned best to never gain the Familiar Runes.

Now, let's see how well she does around the other noble, pampered and prejudiced children.

...

A big shoutout to Shattersoul for going through this chapter with a fine comb. I switched so much between tenses here it wasn't funny, but he seems to think otherwise. Too bad I will probably no longer have the opportunity to insert more broken french. His suggestions were hilarious.

This is Truemmer, signing off. Have a wonderful day. :)


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